Back and Forth
by andiehehe
Summary: Arthur was thirteen when he first met him. A time-travel story divided into two parts. Part 1 is in Arthur's POV.


Author's Notes:  
Hi! This is my first ever attempt at writing anything. So please forgive me. I've posted this story before in AO3 but I couldn't figure out how that site works (yet) so I decided to transfer the story here instead. This story is in two parts and I'm already at about halfway through the second one.

Warnings:  
This is an A/M story so if you are not comfortable with that, this story is not for you. Other than that, nothing much except some allusions to an adult past time (lol) and much OOCness. And no lemons at all (I'm sorry).

I regret and own nothing, especially not Merlin nor its characters.

And also, the time travelling concept is inspired greatly by "The Time Traveler's Wife' (specifically the lack of clothes lol)

* * *

Arthur was thirteen when he first met Merlin.

He'd been out in the forest hunting, as he usually did every two weeks or so. It was his favorite pastime, to hunt—he reveled in the thrill he gets from stalking the animals, watching their every move. When he was in a reflective mood, he fancied himself to be one with the nature, that he could hear the _rhythm _of things, every breeze, every sway of leaves and even life itself. He felt like he had a connection, something primal and ingrained in his very soul. He felt like he was somewhere he belonged.

But really, besides all that one-with-nature crap story he likes to tell the ladies and gents of the court (and don't they just love that), it was the freedom to roam around on his own, the wind brushing against his face, and the adventure—just him and his horse-that he liked best. Hunting gave him a break from the tedious, almost nauseating, cycle of everything "princely" that weighed on him in the castle.

And it was on one such hunting trip, that he'd had the fortune (or misfortune, as he'd come to the conclusion later) to meet this wandering warlock called Merlin. Barely half an hour past since he'd left the castle grounds when he was already busy with his first prey. Slowly, and with the precision of a man (or boy) evidently trained in the ways of the hunt, he approached it, a small rabbit, taking care not to make any noise. He adjusted his weapon and found himself a spot for a good shot. The creature wasn't moving, it was too busy fiddling with some grass patch. Arthur watched closely—"Slowly …", he thought, synchronizing his movements with that of his prey. He had an arrow directed to his target. Readjusting his aim a few degrees to the left, he took a deep breath and drew a shot.

The low muffled cry from the rabbit told him he got a successful hit. He wasn't expecting to miss, really, but of course he was a bit proud of himself for the result. He was about to go and pick up his the carcass when all of a sudden an unknown arm landed on his shoulder.

"A-Arthur?" said a voice from behind. He had been too absorbed with the rabbit, what with the one-with-nature concentration thing, to even pay attention to his surroundings. And oh wasn't he so terribly doomed if it was some sort of bandit who'd recognized him and decided to take him for ransom. His father, proud King Uther, would definitely not be pleased. He could already feel the lashes he would get later on that day.

"Is that really you?" the voice asked again. "What are you doing here?" and then, "Oh look at how small you are!" it added.

Confused, Arthur turned to see the owner of the voice, only to have his face acquainted with a very naked chest. Moving back a bit, his eyes travelled the length of the man's body. Oh. _Oh._ It took a few seconds for him to realize that the chest, in fact, was attached to a body and said body belonged to indeed a very _naked_ man.

"W-who are you and why haven't you got any clothes?! Are you a pervert?!" he almost shrieked. Almost, because clearly a prince such as himself do not shriek. That much he had learned from his tutors.

The man, he noticed, was almost twice his height, had messy black hair, blue eyes and well—_very_ remarkable ears, oh and he was incredibly lanky too. He looked baffled, glancing at Arthur's expression and back to his body, when finally, something seemed to click with him.

"Eep!" The lanky man squeaked a bit. He quickly put his arms in front his—uhm well—_parts, _in a futile attempt to save what little was left of his dignity. Arthur was looking at him warily. "I- No! Of course not! I mean, I don't know! I really—I didn't know it was going to be like this but I'm not a pervert! Trust me." The man seemed to be rambling about some incoherent things.

"Well then, I'm sure you have a good explanation as to why you were creeping up on me with nothing but—well, nothing at all—on your person!" the boy demanded.

"I did not mean to—" Arthur shot him a disbelieving look. "Oh shut up. Look, Arthur. Just—can you just lend me something to cover up a bit? It's not gonna be for long, I promise, but it's bloody cold here and you can stop looking at me like I'm some sort of a pervert, yeah?" he shot back at Arthur.

Fortunately enough for the man, Arthur still had some sense of righteousness and moved to remove his cloak. Laughing to himself, he knew could already imagine the faces of his tutors, Don't speak to unknown men, they said. Wow, they certainly _would_ be proud of him now. "Here" he said, dropping his cloak to the strange man's hands. "You called me by my name. Aren't you gonna tell me who you are?" his voice laced with a bit of interest, "Or do I have to go call the guards and tell them what that a strange unknown man had been preying on Camelot's crown prince?"

The man, after wrapping the too-short cloak around himself (it barely reached his knees), extended one of his hands to Arthur. Arthur didn't take it. "Right," the man said. Not giving up, he beamed, "Thanks! Erm and I assure you won't have to do that, _your highness_," and the man most certainly _was _looking down on him, Arthur noted, _the nerve!_

"Erm, and I'm Merlin, by the way. Though I'm not really sure what else to say. It's a really long story." The man—Merlin, replied.

"I'm sure you have a very good explanation as to why you're wandering naked and asking certain princes for clothes," Arthur said faking enthusiasm. But to be honest with himself, there was something about this man he couldn't quite put his finger on, it was almost like he wanted to know this man. Besides, he reasoned to himself, between knowing the almost certainly hilarious story this man was going to tell him and his books and tutors at home, there was no contest really. "So that's okay, I've got some time." He smirked playfully. "Prat", he thought he heard Merlin say. But he was urged to sit down and then the man started to talk, so he didn't really get to react.

* * *

Well, no doubt, it was a long story, like the man had said. It took Merlin about half an hour to explain that he wasn't actually a pervert trying to stalk Arthur. Because Merlin talked as clumsily as he walked, they often found the conversation leading towards irrelevant topics and Arthur, for his part, seemed to love it. For one, he never had a lot of people to talk to back at the castle, if one could even consider his tutorial sessions as "talking". And, he was certain no one had dared talk to him the way this man has. Hurling insults to him, calling him a "prat" every so often and he found himself teasing back at Merlin every opportunity he got, which happened to be a lot.

"You're not actually a rabbit are you?" Arthur said, pulling one of Merlin's remarkably huge ears. "Or perhaps an elf? Yes, with your ears and the way you wander around forests naked."

"And you're a prat." he frowned, tugging at Merlin's ears again. "Ow! Ow! That actually hurts you know!" Merlin yelped. "And what makes you think elves go around forests naked? I am not an elf. If only you were listening to what I have been saying for the past half-hour. Show some respect to your elders, yeah?" Merlin batted his hands away and scolded him but there wasn't much force behind it.

"Well, I'm no longer a kid, and you don't exactly look like respectable anyways." He dismissed.

Because he was being particularly stubborn, it took another half-hour for him to realize what Merlin was saying. "I'm actually a warlock from the future who happened to return to the past—a time traveler, as they'd call it." Merlin had told him, his expression grand, as if he were proclaiming the start of a festival.

And Arthur, who was just as disbelieving as he was an hour ago, obviously did not buy it. "Hey, old man, Merlin. Did you actually hit your head somewhere?" he said, inspecting the sides of Merlin's head with mock concern. "But I guess with a head like yours it must've always been like this." he poked teasingly but with less force and perhaps just a little fondness.

"No, no I'm serious!" Merlin looked affronted. He paused and added, "Tell you what, I'm actually going to be the most amazing person you'll ever meet. We'll be best friends, if I have to say so myself. The very best." He added, his tone a bit too familiar.

Arthur snorted. "You're serious? You?", he gave Merlin a once over, "And yet you're saying you're a sorcerer?" he frowned, he didn't understand how any man could willingly pronounce himself as a sorcerer and then claim to be his best friend. "Do you know that I could have you killed just from saying that?" It was unfortunately true, Arthur's father was very intent on ridding the world of sorcerers. He'd know, he'd seen many burned at the plaza. And Arthur was a bit disappointed too. To think he was starting to like this man a bit already. Admittedly, there was something wrong with the man's head and at first Arthur thought it was funny. But to actually joke about something as vile as sorcery? His father told him all about the evils of sorcery. He wasn't having it.

Merlin's smile fell and as if on cue, there was sudden stillness in the air. Arthur was about to say something more when Merlin cupped his face and put his hand over Arthur's mouth. "Be quiet." He whispered, his tone alert.

Arthur struggled to be let go and he heard the sound of footsteps closing in on them. Figures emerged from behind the trees and they found themselves surrounded by an unfriendly group of bandits.

"Well, well, well… Look who we have here!" an old scruffy man declared, unsheathing his sword. He was a fat man about five-feet tall and wore a ragged looking vest revealing a hairy chest. If Arthur was any judge of character, this one looks like the leader of the pack, his obnoxious commanding voice as good a sign as any. "If it isn't the little prince Arthur…" the man gestured his men towards Arthur, and Arthur, the little boy, actually growled. "And oh look at his guard." The man pointed his sword towards Merlin, almost laughing. "Oh he looks so scary!", deadly sarcasm lacing his voice, his face scrunched in fake terror.

Arthur immediately stood guard and drew a dagger from his belt pouch. He placed himself in front of Merlin, fully aware that Merlin, all bones and gangly limbs, had nothing on these men, and well, neither did he but at least he had a weapon. And he wasn't one to back out from fights. Even if he was just a kid with a tiny dagger going against six perfectly adult men with long pointy swords. "Leave him out of this." He declared, gesturing towards Merlin. "He's just some village fool."

And Merlin, that bastard, laughed. Really laughed. As if there was some joke he knew that the other men did not. "What's so funny?" they all exclaimed. The bandits were getting a bit annoyed. And to be honest, so was Arthur.

"Oh, oh, nothing. " Merlin said, his chest heaving as he calmed his self down. "It's just that, for all the brawns you have, you choose to gang up on two helpless people. He's just what…" pointing towards Arthur, "...some kid with a tiny dagger. Such men you are."

"You're not helping." Arthur mouthed to him. He was gonna say "Don't call me a kid!" but he thought better of it.

"Awww, isn't that right?" The man asked. "Unfortunately for you," he motioned to wards Merlin. "We're bandits. And we don't really care about no honor." He was inching on Merlin now, ogling his apparent lack of sufficient garments. "And aren't you a pretty little thing yourself?" he said, holding Merlin's jaw. Arthur, for some reason, decided that he didn't like what the man was trying to do to Merlin, to his poor helpless almost-friend Merlin, and pushed with all his might, somehow managing to knock the man away. "Don't touch him! Your opponent is me." He announced.

And what a sight it was. Arthur had been so courageous even as he was faced with a man easily thrice his own size and he had nothing but a fancy little dagger. His father would be proud of him, he thought almost bitterly. Everyone should be proud of him, perhaps erect some sort of monument in his name, to remember him when he's been killed trying to protect a helpless stranger he'd just met in the forest.

"Funny how that works." The man spoke again, distracting him from his thoughts. "For all your play at being courageous, I could easily take you apart with one blow." He looked at his lackeys for approval, and they all nodded.

Merlin saw that the man was preparing to strike and, in a brief display of what Arthur could only describe as stupidity, Merlin spoke, "And I could take you apart with less." His hand reached out in a shoving motion.

The air stilled and all of sudden, the bandits were knocked out by an invisible force. Arthur was utterly lost. He looked at Merlin as if asking "What just happened?" And he noticed the brief streak of gold that flashed through Merlin's blue eyes. It dawned on him. "Y-you.." he pointed towards Merlin, obviously tense, "You're not actually…?" he couldn't finish the sentence.

"Oh Arthur, I told you I'm a warlock. You just didn't want to believe me." Merlin said playfully. Arthur frowned. He couldn't believe he just tried to save a sorcerer and never mind the fact that he had actually been saved by one. That went against everything his father ever told him. "B-but you saved me!" he croaked.

"Yeah, well, not every sorcerer is out to get you, you know?" Merlin replied, his eyes seemed to darken for a bit. "Get over yourself", it was obvious Merlin was trying for humor, but Arthur noticed the dip in his tone.

"Well then," Arthur announced after a moment of silence, "I-I guess I'll have to thank you…" he couldn't look Merlin in the eye—not the same blue eyes that flashed betrayal against everything his father had told him.

So he looked down, "F-for saving me…" and finished. His voice was so soft it was almost a whisper.

But Merlin heard it of course, "Well, you're welcome, Arthur." He replied, ruffling Arthur's hair in the process. "B-but maybe if you could just, at least, do me a little favor? I mean, _your highness_" his voice had the usual chirp back in it.

Arthur relaxed a bit. There was clearly something about this sorcerer. After all, if he truly wanted to kill Arthur, he wouldn't have saved him in the first place, wouldn't ruffle his hair like he was doing now, and he certainly wouldn't be asking him for a favor.

"Well, as long as it doesn't involve destroying Camelot…" Arthur decided, trying for humor. Merlin looked scandalized. "Oh no no! Never that. Absolutely not. That would be the last thing I'd ever…", he sighed. "I-I just… Would it terribly bother you to bring some clothes, my size of course, doesn't matter who they're from, oh… and uhm, preferably clean ones, back here tomorrow? Around this time? I mean, time traveling is quite fun you know, just, possibly better if I had some clothes on so I don't get mistaken for some pervert by some little prat princes yeah?" He was rambling. "Because you know, it's not actually—"

"Merlin." Arthur tried to cut him off.

"—fun to be addressed…"

"MERLIN!" Arthur barked. "It's okay. I'll manage something. I'll ask some of the servants. J-just… I'm not actually sure you are real and this," he waved his hands "…thing… really happened." He paused. Now, it was his turn to blush. "But, I'll be here with some clothes tomorrow." He managed to say.

"Oh that's absolutely fantastic!" Merlin beamed at him. Arthur decided he liked the look of that. A few seconds later though, Merlin visibly paled. Arthur shot him a look of concern. "W-what.."

"N-nothing!," Merlin replied quickly. "Err… it's just—time's up, I guess." He looked at his hand, they were starting to disappear. "I'll see you tomorrow Arthur!" He managed to say, patting Arthur's head one last time. Just like that, he disappeared as quickly as he came.

* * *

The next morning found Arthur waiting at the same spot with a bag of clothes with him. He was tired. He hadn't even eaten breakfast because he was so eager to leave for the forest, thinking how cold Merlin would be in this weather (and at this time of the day, for heaven's sake it was just dawn) if he wasn't there when Merlin arrives. And if he just casually showed a bit too much concern towards some stranger he just met, and might not even meet again, well, who was there to call him on it?

Merlin arrived about two hours later, to Arthur's irritation, but seeing how Merlin instantly shivered when a slight breeze blew cold, Arthur shut up instead. He brought him slacks, a tunic, a pair of leather boots and socks and an old cloak he'd found lying around his father's chambers. He pushed them towards his new found friend.

Merlin nodded his thanks and tried to put on the clothes he was given but not without much difficulty.

"Tell me, Merlin." He started, "Is there really nothing you could do properly on your own? I'm surprised you even manage!" Arthur said teasing, but he helped Merlin with his boots anyway.

"I'm sorry, it's kinda, uhm... difficult to do this you know." Merlin replied solemnly, clearly missing the joke. Their hands brushed for a moment and Arthur felt how cold Merlin actually was. Not knowing what else to say, he helped Merlin finish putting on the rest of the clothes.

A few minutes later, Merlin looked pleased. "Wow. This actually looks good." he said, inspecting the clothes further.

"Yes, well, I'm not actually as useless as you." Arthur shot back at him.

"Oh yes, thank you for that, my friend." Merlin clasped his hands and exaggeratedly shook them. "I could never have managed without you." He smirked. If being called a "friend" by Merlin, made Arthur want to jump in joy, he managed to conceal it perfectly. He didn't look it but he wasn't really the friendly type, not that he'd had lots of opportunity to make friends when he's the King's only son. As result, he tended to put much value on what few relationships he had.

"Of course, I'm the great honorable Prince Arthur." He replied, thumping his chest proudly with his fist as if he were some great war hero. Merlin ruffled his hair playfully. "Oh, don't push it. It really doesn't suit you." He smirked. Then they simultaneously burst into laughter.

* * *

It was a good few hours later that Arthur found Merlin bidding him goodbye. They'd been walking around the forest with no particular place to go—just really talking to each other and enjoying the sights. He had enjoyed conversing with Merlin, he admitted, and if the man's resounding laughter was a sign, he was sure he felt the same. They've talked about a lot of things; how his father never seemed to have much time for him, how he mostly spent his days studying or learning how to fight and sometimes about the castle servants too—Helena, his favorite maidservant, the stable master, and the court physician, Gauis and his famed eyebrows. It was surprising how easily he seemed to open up to Merlin. Though for his part, Merlin never seemed too enthusiastic to tell him about himself.

He was about to recount the time he went to play a prank on the Lady Angela (it had something to do with the doors to her chambers) when he noticed Merlin was visibly shaking.

"So, uhm… I-I think it's almost time for me to leave again, Arthur." Merlin told him, disappointment clear in his tone.

"Yes, of course." he replied. He wanted to say he had fun and wouldn't it be possible for Merlin to stay and that he would miss his new friend but he settled with "Will I see you again then?", he hoped he didn't sound too _pleading_.

"Oh, yes! Yes, of course!" Merlin replied too quickly "Right… well, first I'm going to have to settle a few more things so I really don't know when exactly I'll be able to visit again…" he friend paused, as if thinking about something, "B-but, we'll see! If you could possibly wait for me here again in two weeks, I-I'll try to show up." Merlin quickly reassured him.

It did nothing to ease his worries but he nodded. Merlin was gone again, just like that.

* * *

He did not see him until three months later.

"Are you actually an idiot, Merlin?" Arthur was red with anger. "Do you even know how to tell apart weeks from months? Three months, Merlin. Three months!" he shouted as he delivered small jabs to Merlin's side.

"Ow! Ow! W-well… better late than never I guess?" Merlin tried for the "innocent act"—rubbing the back of his head and smiling somewhat sheepishly towards Arthur. It wasn't very successful.

"You complete bollocks! Do you have any idea how long I waited for you here? I was starting to wonder if you were even real to begin with or if I was just losing my mind!" Arthur froze at what he just said. He couldn't believe he just admitted to Merlin that he was actually waiting for him there since he said he was coming back.

"N-not that I care whether you we're coming or not!" he blurted, "M-my noble conscience just wouldn't be able to take it if I left a naked man freezing in this cold!". He was visibly blushing as he shoved some clothes towards Merlin.

"Of course, you didn't" Merlin replied, accepting the clothes in his hands. He was trying too hard not to laugh but he was failing spectacularly. Arthur blushed even more. He was about to say something when Merlin's laughter turned to a harsh coughing fit.

"Oh just get dressed you idiot!" he said, patting Merlin's back with his hand. Affection and worry in his voice.

Moments later, the fit stopped and Merlin seemed to calm down, "Y-Yeah, t-thanks for this!" Merlin's voiced was still a bit cracked but Arthur tried not to worry too much. Merlin seemed to sense this and he tried to reassure him by patting his head twice before and finally getting dressed.

* * *

"You see, I was hoping we could ride around the forest last time." Arthur was most definitely not sulking when he told Merlin this. They were walking along the side of a lake Arthur had been frequenting lately.

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry. No need to pout little prince!" Merlin teased.

"I am not pouting!" Arthur denied. "I-I… It's just that I brought horses and some stuff. A-and oh, I just know how you'd just make a spectacle of yourself with the horses." He had actually imagined that.

"Yeah, well, I just know how even bigger an arse you'll be when you grow up!" Merlin jibed.

"Y-yeah?" he smiled. Somehow the thought of meeting Merlin until he grew up appealed to him "… you keep telling me all this vague stuff about the future…" he paused, hesitating, "b-but what exactly is in the future?"

Merlin seemed to think. "Well, hmm… I don't think it'd be wise to tell you, kid. It might change how some things play out." He was smiling but the apology was clear in his voice.

"Well, Merlin, if you're trying to act wise then surely something must've gone wrong somewhere already." Arthur smirked. If he was disappointed he couldn't know more about his future he did not let on.

"But, if you insist, I shall give you some very important advice then." Merlin said, his voice laced with seriousness. "You have to be sure to follow every word I will say." He added, looking at Arthur in the eye.

Arthur swallowed, "Y-yes?" curiosity and expectation was evident in his eyes. Merlin seemed to be thinking hard about something. Then he opened his mouth,

"Learn to polish your armor! Clean your chambers and your socks! God forbid, don't forget about your socks!" Merlin exclaimed as he waived his hands dramatically. He tried to look grave but a smile was already forming in his face.

"Oi, I resent that!" Arthur blurted, laughter threatening to escape. "My socks are perfectly clean! Thank you very much!" Arthur said with fake resentment. He made a show of kicking Merlin's foot. "And you should know, you're wearing one of them now!" he declared. Merlin gave him a look of fake horror and it was all they could do to hold their laughter in.

Arthur was still recovering from their laughing fit, wiping some tears from the side of his eyes, when Merlin exclaimed. "Enough about the future!" he flashed a grin so wide Arthur had to blink. "Tell me what happened while I was gone."

* * *

And it was always like that—Merlin barging in Arthur's life, uninvited but not unwelcome. Merlin's visits has been as erratic as they had been before and sometimes he would be gone for such a long period it would merit repeatedly asking about Arthur and the palace, the King, the other kingdoms, as though he was in a foreign land and he didn't know. He'd pester Arthur to tell him things—which season it was, which kingdoms were at war, who married who, and everything Arthur could only care so much about—as though his life depended on it. _And maybe it did_, Arthur would later realize. It was almost unfair how he'd ask everything of Arthur but he would only reveal so little of himself, if at all. But Arthur was okay with that. He found he liked talking to Merlin the most and soon enough he was looking forward to it, like a child to a carnival, not that Arthur would admit he loved those.

They did go to a carnival though, once. He was around fourteen at that time, and Merlin, whatever his age was, was as childish and curious as a young boy. He'd forced Arthur to go with him. Arthur felt a bit too old to actually enjoy the carnival but young enough to still want to go with Merlin, if only to make fun of the faces Merlin was sure to make when he saw all the stunts. Merlin was quite possibly the most easily pleased man he'd ever met and his awestruck face was so hilarious it was something that Arthur wouldn't miss for the world. So of course Arthur did go and had to endure hiding in commoner's garbs—trying not to attract too much attention to himself. Though to be fair, Arthur really did enjoy that day. The idea of disguising himself as a commoner was as close to him as living a life different from his monotonous one, and he loved it. Not to mention the fact that he had Merlin by his side the entire time, which was something different altogether and was something Arthur was afraid to think about.

When it was time for Merlin to leave again, he ruffled Arthur's hair as he usually did. Arthur all of a sudden held his arm and just, just _held_ him there. The "_I wish you didn't have to go away_" was left unsaid, and so was the "_I wish I didn't I have to._" They just stayed like that; holding each other's hands while waiting for the inevitable moment. He tried not to blink and take in the sight of his friend, thinking that if he blinked just a second he would miss something. _That's ridiculous, _he told himself and briefly looked away. True enough, not even a second later, Merlin was gone. And he wanted to curse himself.

* * *

Between himself and Merlin, they'd figured how to work things out. Arthur would leave some garments hidden on one of the trees in the forest so that whenever Merlin would suddenly arrive, he wouldn't have to wait for Arthur before he got himself presentable. And Merlin, for his part, would send for an animal, usually a dove, to inform Arthur that he was around. Arthur no longer had to pretend to go on hunting on days when he thought Merlin would arrive. Now, he just rode out to meet him when he called and they would spend the day doing whatever ridiculous idea either of them would have and then they would talk until the sun went down and Merlin had to go away again.

Sometimes it would be days between their meetings, sometimes weeks, but they were fine with that. It had been a while since they met and Arthur, young hopeful Arthur, was sure it was meant to continue that way.

* * *

Few more years of Merlin coming in and out of Arthur's life as he pleased and Arthur (though clearly not too happy with the arrangement) allowing him to do so—Arthur realized he was growing up. It was almost a spontaneous thing. He was suddenly much bigger than Merlin, though still not taller and his clothes were now too big to lend to Merlin. He also noticed how people, mostly girls but there were the occasional boys as well, would be looking at him as though he was some sort of a coveted prize. He admit he was pleased with the thought but didn't really care much about those people, thinking of how happy he would be if only a certain _someone_ paid attention to him that way.

One night he just woke up to a dream he had about Merlin. And it was the kind of dream that ended up with him cleaning off a sticky hot mess that settled on his stomach. He tried hard not to think about what _that _was about, knowing exactly the reason why but terribly frightened of what he might uncover underneath. He desperately hoped it would go away just as it had suddenly come.

Not much later he realized, Merlin was quite possibly his best friend, if he was to be honest with himself. Merlin was the only one he could confide in with his deepest secrets and questions and expect to tell him off when he thought he did something stupid. Arthur never had anyone else like that back in the castle. And that was it. If Arthur told himself that this is the reason why he wanted to be with Merlin much more frequently these days, why he would think about Merlin with almost every other breath he took, and why he was scared of the things he was already willing to do just for Merlin, he bloody well thought why not. Except the truth was much clearer—he didn't want to just spend time with Merlin, he wanted to be _closer._

It had been two days since Merlin last visited him and Arthur was positively glowing as he talked on and on about his adventures. He was sixteen then, popular, active and cheerful as any sixteen year old princes ought to be. Apparently, he was allowed to occasionally join the knights in training and he was absolutely excited with this. He told Merlin about Sir Leon, who had been older than him by a mere two years, but was easily one of the finest knights. He also told him about Morgana, his step sister whose mother had recently passed and how she was now going to be living with them. He swore she was planning to make his life a living hell, and Merlin just had to laugh out loud at this and said "Oh you would definitely love her!". There was something in his voice but Arthur thought he was imagining things.

Apparently, as it turned out, Morgana did plan to make his life miserable, in a way only seventeen year-old princesses could manage. She would tease Arthur about his escapades with his "secret forbidden love" whenever Arthur would come home late on Merlin's visits. He would be an utter mess, vehemently denying any such accusation and managing to come up with almost reasonable excuses, well _almost_. Things never went smoothly though as Uther would shoot him a disapproving look, which to be fair, he always did anyways, and the servants would whisper among themselves. Arthur swore he would get back to Morgana one day. In Morgana's defense though, she was just really joking. If things were turning out to be a bit worse than a joke that hit too close to home, she would call it off and reaffirm everyone that it wasn't true. The people would stop talking and Uther would seem a little bit pleased (if that was possible at all). Arthur couldn't decide if he loved her or hated her. Probably a bit of both.

* * *

Then one quiet night, Arthur was in his chambers, polishing one of the boots he was lending to Merlin, and was thinking excitedly of what they were going to do on his next visit, when Morgana appeared.

"You're disgustingly happy tonight, Arthur. Is there really no one you're not telling me about?" she said, not bothering to knock first.

"You do know there is a door, Morgana. And it's there for you to knock on." He said, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, I know you Arthur Pendragon. You Pendragons think you're so good at controlling your emotions but you're not. Just look at your face right know. You're practically beaming!" she said, pointedly ignoring Arthur's comment. Clearly, his diversion tactic had no effect on her whatsoever.

"Would it be so terrible for you to actually mind your own business, Morgana? If there is, and I'm not saying that there really is, that "secret forbidden love" you are so keen on accusing me of, what makes you think I'd want to tell you anyways?" He said, trying hard not to dwell on the thought of Merlin and him as anything more than friends and the sudden warmth in his chest.

"But you have someone in mind right now!" She pointed out. Sometimes Arthur worried that maybe she was like Merlin; how they sometimes just know what he's thinking about. To be fair, Merlin was a sorcerer and maybe they could do that, and well, Morgana was not, she was just Morgana. Or maybe that was just her own brand of magic.

"I do not!" He replied too quickly. He hoped Morgana didn't notice the crack in his voice nor the sudden redness of his face.

"Tsk. Tsk. Dear Brother. You may deny all you want but I'm just saying that hey, I know about this things and if you ever need anyone to talk to about it, which, knowing you, I'm sure you're just dying to do so, I'm all ears." She said smoothly. And she was right again. Arthur had always wanted to tell the world of Merlin, as though he's the most brilliant thing that ever walked the earth. And he probably was, where Arthur was concerned, what with how a small smile from Merlin could make him smile like an idiot for the entire day, a-and the things that make Merlin even more special, his magic—that wonderful gift that he shouldn't have to hide, if Arthur had anything to say, and his eyes, his sense of humor—you get the point. But he knows he couldn't, not with his father wanting to kill every sorcerer in sight. The image of Merlin, his sweet innocent Merlin, burning at the pyre wasn't one he liked to think of.

"Oh , Arthur…" her eyes widened in recognition. "There really is someone isn't there? You just smiled and frowned and I bet you just had a little conversation in that little head of yours." She said, reaching out to sit next to him on his bed.

And Arthur can't deny it. He doesn't want to deny it. He likes Merlin. Maybe more than he'd led himself to believe. But alas, he couldn't risk it.

"I-I…" he was gonna explain why he couldn't let her know when she beat him to it.

"It's okay, Arthur. If you can't tell me about it. But promise me, promise me Arthur Pendragon, you will tell me if it becomes too much." She said, giving him a hug.

"I-I… don't know yet. I'm also confused. I don't even know if that person feels the same way and I'm not exactly sure how I feel myself." He sighed. "I think I might like that person too much."

"Oh Arthur." And she hugged him again for good measure. "My little brother is growing up." Now, he determined, she was just being annoying.

"You're only a year ahead of me." He reminded her but hugged back anyway.

* * *

It was two days after Arthur turned eighteen when he found Merlin waiting for him just outside the gates of Camelot. Arthur was positively livid.

"Do you really have any brain inside that thick skull of yours?" he asked, dragging Merlin away from the plaza. "You realize that any wrong move you make and you end up on that pyre?!" Oh he was so so angry.

Merlin looked embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry…" he whispered so softly Arthur wouldn't have heard it if he weren't inches from Merlin's face. "B-but relax, Arthur! I bloody look like any normal person when I'm like this…" he gestured to himself, "…and I hardly would attempt anything that would draw any attention to myself." He paused and then, "Despite what you say, I'm not actually entirely stupid, Arthur."

Except he was, thought Arthur. Of course everyone would notice the crown Prince Arthur when they walked past him, and wouldn't anyone ask who the person walking next to him was. And if Morgana saw Merlin, Arthur's just sure she'd realize it with one look and she would never let him live it down. She would possibly coo.

And that if, by some miracle, no one noticed Arthur, surely people would want to know who that person walking around in some of Camelot's finest garbs was. He never let Merlin know but everything he "lent" to Merlin since he turned 15, was in fact, made by the finest tailors in Camelot. He had grown quite taller which gave him an excuse to ask for more clothes. And if he was determined not to give anything short of best to Merlin, well, he couldn't help it.

He sighed. "J-just… let's just go, Merlin. We haven't got all day."

* * *

They were riding this time. Merlin told Arthur he wanted to go to this cave he'd heard about in his travels. They'd been a good two hours away from Camelot and while they can last for longer periods together without talking, this time, Arthur had wanted to ask Merlin something.

"How old are you actually, Merlin?" his tone a bit hesitant. He didn't want to pry too much if Merlin didn't feel it safe for him to answer.

"Oh, I'm thirty-two. Why'd you ask?" Merlin said matter-of-factly.

Arthur almost fell of his horse from the shock. "Thirty-two? You don't look a day older than, I'd say, about twenty. And we've been doing this since I was thirteen! How come you never look older? " he asked, sincerely wanting to know.

Merlin seemed to think about what he said. "Well that's because I was bluffing and I'm really only twenty-two years old?" he said a bit too jokingly, smile almost splitting his face but never quite reaching his eyes. And Arthur can tell he was trying to hide something. He was lying. Like all the other mysteries surrounding Merlin, Arthur had to force himself to accept he probably was never going to know this one as well. He sighed.

"Yeah, well, whatever. Let's just get a move on. We've been riding a good two hours now and you said that cave-place you wanted to visit was just around here." He tried changing the subject. Arthur had never really liked it when Merlin felt he needed to hide something from him. He understood it was for his "safety" as Merlin would say. But Arthur didn't like how his friend would sometimes go off on a world of his own, thinking to himself, frowning, and later on forcing an obviously faked smile for him as though he thought Arthur could not even tell.

"I'm really sorry Arthur, you know I am." Merlin said, frowning.

"It's okay, Merlin. I understand." He replied, mentally kicking himself for bringing that expression upon Merlin's face. And oh, realized, _he_ was not okay at all.

* * *

A few minutes later they finally arrived at the cave Merlin was babbling about. To his defense, the cave was really everything he said it would be; there were crystals forming all over the cave and if one would permit a bit of imagination, one could even say they were glowing.

They had a tour of the cave and Merlin was positively beaming, "It's so magical!" he would tell Arthur. And Arthur, for his part, would say "You know, you're not actually a girl, Merlin!" but he finds himself feeling the same. Only it's not really the cave that he finds magical. Merlin grabs his hand and pulls him towards one particular crystal formation. The crystals were amazing, he thought, but more so was the warmth of the hand he desperately didn't want to let go of.

* * *

It was another two hours when they managed to get around the cave and not without much complaining on Merlin's part. "Do we really have to go already?" he'd plead and Arthur'll be damned if he could say no to that. So, they stayed in for a few more minutes until they heard some thunder outside and they were forced to leave if they didn't want to get caught in the rain on their way back to Camelot.

They did get wet though but at least there was Merlin, and he was laughing reassuringly at Arthur, "Oh , Arthur, don't be such a girl. Few drops of rain shouldn't be too bad!". Until it was too bad and they had to stop in some cave because the winds were too strong already and they couldn't risk anyone seeing Merlin do magic.

Merlin was unusually twitchy and Arthur only had to take one long look at him before he would come out spilling what it was he wanted to say. And Arthur would laugh and laugh so hard because at least this side of Merlin was something he knew how to deal with.

"Out with it." Said Arthur, voice a bit demanding.

Merlin nervously shifted in his spot, trying to take something out of his coat pocket. "Uhm… well, it was your birthday a while ago and I realized I have been a terrible friend for the past years," Arthur snorted at that, almost wanting to say something rude but Merlin beat ignored him, "…but in my defense, I couldn't possibly take anything else with me when I couldn't even keep my bloody clothes on when I travel…" Arthur was raising his eyebrow at him, "Oh, yeah, I'm rambling now, so here…" he grabbed one of Arthur's hands and put a small bag on it.

"T-this is… for me?" Arthur was sincerely surprised. He never expected Merlin to actually give him something for his birthday, never mind the fact that he's never actually celebrated his birthday with Merlin before, what with all the festivities back at the castle.

"Yes, Arthur, I don't see anyone else in here." Merlin teased him. "Happy birthday, Arthur! Sorry it's a bit late though. Go on, open it. I made it back at the crystal cave while you were too busy complaining about the crystals." Merlin was smiling.

Arthur opened the bag and pulled out his present. It was a tiny crystal pendant, shaped like the Pendragon crest. And while Arthur's favorite color had always been red, he couldn't find it in himself to complain when the color was the exact blue of Merlin's eyes when they'd been out in the sun and he was smiling so brightly. He wanted to say something but he could not form the words.

"Oh Arthur, I'm glad you seem to like it!" Merlin chirped ecstatically.

And maybe it was the way Merlin was smiling at him, all cheekbones and crinkly eyes, that stupid wide grin of his that Arthur had always loved seeing on him, or that perfectly wonderful present he'd just received, that made Arthur lean in towards Merlin and place his lips on top of Merlin's oh so red ones.

* * *

The kiss, if it could even be called as such, only lasted for a few seconds then Merlin had his arms on Arthur's shoulders, and started to pull himself away. The sudden movement made Arthur realize what he had just done.

Arthur panicked. "I-I'm sorry, Merlin! I didn't know what came over… You can just forget about it…" Arthur wanted to say more –sprout excuses that, ultimately, he thought, was for Merlin because the few seconds they had together was everything Arthur had ever wanted and more than he should ever have. If Merlin didn't want the kiss to be true, then Arthur would pretend up to the day he died it didn't happen. He wouldn't force himself on Merlin. If he thought that as prince he was naturally an assertive person, it was different with Merlin. It's always been different with Merlin.

He was about to open his mouth again when Merlin cut him off. "Don't, Arthur. It was my fault. I'm so sorry." And Merlin looked like he was about to cry. And oh what had he done to put that look on Merlin's beautiful face.

The next thing he knew, his own face was wet and Merlin, sweet innocent Merlin, was hugging him, rubbing circles on his back.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, I'm so sorry."

* * *

The rain stopped after a while and they were riding back to Camelot again. Arthur told Merlin he didn't need to accompany him to Camelot, he was a big boy, thank you very much, but Merlin insisted he did. Between the two of them, there had been far too many attempts on Arthur's life that would've possibly succeeded had Merlin not been there to protect him. So, for the first time they rode on with nervous silence hanging upon them.

Merlin was having none of that. As usual, he knew exactly how to engage Arthur in conversation, well, except for the times he didn't. And this was one of those times, but Arthur was determined not to let him down, not when he was clearly the one who made an utter mess of things and Merlin—who'd never should have been subjected to this _thing_—had been the one frantically trying to mend things for them. So he forced himself to talk. He babbled about anything and everything he could possibly think of; the way he was able to match some of the knights during training, Sir Leon's growing crush on Morgana, the new cook who made the most terrible meat pies he'd ever tasted. He was desperately trying to put the last few hours behind them. And by the time they reached Camelot, he'd told Merlin every trivial thing there was to say, except the one thing he knew he wanted to let Merlin know the most, and that for some unfair reason, he knows he should never ever say.

And Merlin, for his part, seemed to understand Arthur, leaving with a simple nod.

Maybe they could still get this to work, Arthur thought, whatever this thing was, that they had between the two of them. It was a bit frightening to realize how he was willing to give up just about anything to make things right again.

* * *

And of course, that's when things started to take a turn for the worst. Merlin's visits became less frequent as the months rolled by. This time, it has almost been three months since Arthur last saw him.

And he couldn't bring himself to blame Merlin. Clearly, he'd overstepped some unspoken boundary during that one brief moment at the cave. He'd give anything to undo it, he wills himself to think, although deep inside he knows that he could never let go of that one moment—even more so that now it seemed to be the only thing left of what he had with Merlin—the most colorful years of his life reduced to one brief moment at some dubious cave. And for all his thoughts of sacrificing everything for Merlin, he couldn't let go of the one thing that would save them. Wasn't he so perfectly selfish?

He understands there's nothing that can be done now that it's happened. So when the dove perches upon his windowsill, he wills himself up, gets dressed and rides out to follow the bird that Merlin sent to tell him he was around.

* * *

A few minutes later found Arthur looking at a very disheveled Merlin. Protective instincts kicked in and he was fussing over Merlin who seemed to have bruises all over his body. But before he could even ask, Merlin started to speak.

"Arthur, listen carefully. This will be the very last time I'll ever see you like this. Eventually, you'll get to meet me, the real me, not just this," he gestured to himself, "…this one-day friend who appears and disappears on you. I swear, I'd never leave you if I had the choice." He sighed. Arthur could only do his best not to scream at Merlin to "Shut up! This is not happening! You're not going anywhere!" so he just helplessly tugged at Merlin's shoulders.

"What happened at the cave a few months ago," Merlin resumed, "It wasn't your fault Arthur, it was mine. You hear that? You didn't do anything wrong. It was my fault all along. I made a stupid mistake. I overstepped my bounds…" At this point tears were threatening to fall from Arthur's eyes. Even now, did Merlin think he was the one at fault?

"Hey, hey, Arthur, look at me." Merlin said, cupping Arthur's cheeks and wiping the corners where tears started to fall, forcing Arthur to look at him. "When we see each other again, I'm afraid, the me you're going to meet won't remember you. But trust me, Arthur, when I say this, these next years I spent with you, that I will be spending with you, have been the best of my life. So please, don't be sad…" and Merlin himself was about to cry.

"Smile for me Arthur, one last time. Please." Merlin pleaded. Arthur tried his best to comply. If it would be the last thing his sweet innocent Merlin ever asked of him in this—whatever this was. Even though his face was wet with tears and possibly some snot, he beamed at Merlin the way he knew made Merlin beam back at him. Merlin seemed to notice the colored fluid flowing down the side of Arthur's nose, and laughs, a full blown laughter like they used to when riding out in the fields, his head thrown back releasing a thunderous roar, "Oh Arthur, you look so positively awful…" he said, then chuckled a bit more. Odd, Arthur thought he'd never been happier to be called awful. And what would Arthur give just to keep hearing that sound again and again and never stop. He allowed himself to chuckle a bit too.

"I'm perfectly sure," he willed himself to talk, "I'm going to be enjoying making fun of you the next time we meet, Merlin…" sad words weren't his strong suit. He tried to look as smug as someone with tears in his eyes could be. Merlin gave him one last smile.

"I love you too, Arthur."

* * *

When he did see Merlin again he was twenty-three. And Merlin has just turned sixteen.


End file.
